Questions
by ThrowDownTheKey
Summary: Why did Mimi knock on Roger's door? Or Collins chose that phone booth back where Angel set up her drums? Why did Maureen's equipment break down? Mark is full of questions, and he wants answers. But do the answers to those questions really exist?
1. Knock

Mark pedaled faster. He didn't know what time Mimi was done with work, but he wanted to meet her at her apartment. His beloved camera was shut off, for once, and was wrapped tightly around Mark's wrist. He braked the wiry old bicycle, and leaned it up against the brick building.

He was in luck. Mimi was just walking up the stairs. "Mark?" she called.

The filmmaker ran up to meet her, "Hey! Could I interview you about…something?"

She nodded. The dancer dug through her purse and pulled out her keys, which she tossed on the couch once she had entered the room. Mimi then sat down on her urban fabric chair, and unzipped her shimmery gold boots.

The filmmaker set his camera bag on the floor, "Is now a good time?"

She nodded, "Let me take out my earrings first, one second."

When Mimi returned, she curled up on the chair. Mark started turning the handle on his camera expertly, and began. "February thirteenth, twelve am, Eastern Standard Time," he said in the monotone voice he had become famous for. "Mimi Marquez, why did you knock on Roger's door?"

The girl was startled by the random question. Then she laughed, "It's kind of a funny story, actually."

Mark grinned sheepishly from behind the lens, "Do tell."

"Well, I was living with my best friend, Angel. She dared me to get Roger to go on a date," Mimi smirked.

"What?" Mark laughed.

"Yeah!" Mimi smiled, "it's true! I had been…oh, I don't know…crushing on him for a while."

Mark smirked, "Sure…"

"No!" Mimi protested, "He was the perfect hot neighbor upstairs! That's what every girl dreams of, right? Anyway, I didn't have the guts to go talk to him. But then our whole building had that little 'LIGHT ALL THE PAPERS ON FIRE' incident-"

"Not my fault.." Mark murmured.

"Nobody blames you, we all blame Roger," Mimi smiled. "And Angel gave me the drumstick salute, and it was go time. I had to go to work for a while, and when I came back, I thought I'd try my luck. The power was out, so I took a candle."

Mark inserted, "For Roger to light."

She shook her finger, "Not really. It was lit already. But I didn't have any sort of plan on how to start talking to him, and the 'light my candle' thing wasn't so bad, now, was it? It worked."

"What did you see in him?" he inquired.

"Are you kidding!?" Mimi mocked swooning, "Oh, his long, flowing, luscious blonde locks, his deep, growling voice, and his- Oh! Those plaid pants!"

Mark snorted.

She continued, "And I used to love the Well Hungarians!"

"His old band? The failed band?" Mark laughed, "How'd you even find out about that?"

"I was an old fan," she replied.

Mark nodded in surrender and shut his camera off, "Thanks, Mimi."

"What's this tape for, Mark?" she asked.

"You'll see."


	2. Phone Booth

"Why did you-"

Collins froze, "I thought they were my shoes."

Mark furrowed his eye brows, "What are you talking about?"

Collins put his Stoli back on the table cautiously, "What are you talking about?"

Mark sighed and pulled out his camera, "Why did you chose that particular phone booth, back where Angel set up his drums?"

"On Christmas Eve?"

"Yes," Mark sighed.

"Ahh," the professor sat down on the couch, "And, Mark?"

"What?"

"It's 'her', not 'his.'" Collins said casually.

Mark stopped awkwardly, "Sorry," he fumbled.

"To answer your question, I chose that phone booth because fate was pulling me toward it. Towards my future. I didn't know it then, but that phone booth would change my life. On that particular night, I decided on that one, out of all the other booths in Alphabet City, because something deep down inside told me it was special," Collins teased.

"Collins..." Mark groaned, "The truth."

The professor sighed, "It's because it's the same phone booth I've always used. It's right underneath your loft. And don't go bugging Angel about this, she had always drummed at that same corner," he explained.

"Oh," Mark looked disappointed. He had been hoping for some fate or chance, some romanticism, or at least an accident. Something exciting for his film.

Collins put a hand on Mark's shoulder, "You want some fate shit, don't you? I'll give you some. Angel went to that corner every night to drum. I went to that exact same booth every time I needed you guys to let me in. Neither of us expected to find something different that night. But look what was in store for us? We found each other. So, in a way, it was a chance meeting."

"That's perfect," Mark smiled.

"But, you know. I did get mugged, which led me closer to Angel's corner, because the alley way was like, across the street. And I'd never been in that particular alley way before, so-"

Mark put his hands over his ears, "NOOO! It's a perfect story! Don't ruin it with your logic!" and then he ran out the door.


	3. Equipment

"Equipment just breaks down sometimes, Mark," Maureen said. "There's no correct explanation for it."

Mark paused, "Yeah, I know. I just wanted to see if you maybe had some kind of story."

"Well," the performance artist smiled, "I did buy it from a homeless person. So that would make the quality a bit questionable."

Mark laughed, "It would."

"Markie, I don't know why those sparks flew out of that mic thingy-"

"Speaker," he interrupted.

Maureen ignored him, "But I'm glad they did. The stars were in our favor that fateful Christmas Eve."

"You don't really sound much like yourself, Maureen," Mark said. He could tell she had been smoking something or other from her breath.

"Yeah," she said dreamily, "Collins was just over."

"Ah, Collins. That explains it," he said.


	4. Witness

All Mark had wanted was answers.

Why did Mimi knock on Roger's door?

Or Collins chose that phone booth back where Angel set up her drums?

Why did Maureen's equipment break down?

But he couldn't get answers. Or, the answers he wanted.

Because there really is no answer to why anyone did any of those things, or why any of that happened.

But whatever happened that night, it changed everything.

It certainly changed Mark. It most definitely changed his friends.

And Mark Cohen would always be grateful for the Christmas Eve of 1989.

But it made him ask a new question.

Why am I the witness?


End file.
